


солдат (soldat )

by YourShadow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, One-Shot, Sad, Time Travel, What if? scenario, ideas that i should be concerned about having
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourShadow/pseuds/YourShadow
Summary: Hydra develops time travel and The Winter Soldier receives the most important mission of his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to the playlist [here](https://8tracks.com/inth3end/soldat).

Oh, if I could go back in time   
When you only held me in my mind   
_ Just a longing, gone without a trace _ __  
Oh, I wish I never ever seen your face   
I wish you were the one   
Wish you were the one that got away

  
  


**PRESENT DAY**

 

_ Longing _

_ Rusted _

_ Furnace _

_ Daybreak _

_ Seventeen _

_ Benign _

_ Nine _

_ Homecoming _

_ One _

_ Freight Car _

10 words were all it took to control The Winter Soldier.

“ _ Soldat _ ?” came the question.

“ _ Ready to comply, _ ” came the response.

The man formerly known as James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes no longer existed. Instead, there was only Hydra.

“ _ Mission: kill Steve Rogers. _ ” A dossier of the mission plan was handed to him. It detailed the parameters of the assassination to take place. It was the only thing he thought of.

“ _ Acknowledged. _ ” The Winter Soldier stood up from his chair and went to suit up.

***

**1943**

“Steve!”

A young man with bright blond hair and even brighter blue eyes looked up with a smile when he heard his name being called. “Bucky!”

His friend, taller with dark locks and a grin on his face, ran up to him. “You gonna try again?”

The blond knew he was being teased, but his face was filled with determination. “Until I get in,” he replied, eyes lingering on his companion’s uniform.

“Aw c’mon, Steve, it’s not all that,” Bucky told him as they walked to the recruiting station. “There are other ways to contribute to the war efforts, anyway. You don’t  _ have _ to be a soldier.”

“I want to, though,” Steve said. “I want to fight for my country, my homeland. Don’t I have that right as an American?”

Bucky sighed, tossing his head. “Yes, you do, of course you do. That’s not the point.” They both paused outside of the building, turning to face each other.

Steve still had that unwavering expression, looking up at his friend without a hint of fear or trepidation. Bucky stared down at him with a resigned countenance.

“Look, I know why you want to do this. I get it. But you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. I know you’d make a good soldier, Steve. You have the mind and heart for it. Heck, you even have the  _ soul _ for it. But you gotta face it sometime, buddy.”

The unspoken words were left hanging in the air between them.

_ 4-F _

_ Asthma _

_ Poor Eyesight _

_ Underweight _

_ Nervous _

_ Fever _

_ High Blood Pressure _

_ Heart Trouble _

_ Unfit for Service _

Steve’s jaw clenched and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing rebelliously. Bucky shook his head, looking down and away from his friend.

“Alright, kid. But they won’t tell you anything different than the other recruiting offices,” he said, resigned.

Steve gave his friend a small smile and began turning back towards the building. A glint of silver caught his eye and he paused, squinting down the alleyway to catch a better glimpse of brown hair whipping away as someone disappeared around the corner.

“Are you coming or did you finally change your mind?” Bucky called to him, already a few steps closer to the recruiting station.

Steve glanced at his friend, took a step closer, and then turned back to look at the corner. Nothing there.

“I just...I thought I saw something.”

***

The Winter Soldier stared at a time long past. Standing on the streets of New York City in 1943, a familiar yet foreign land, the man with the metal arm could only stare at the hustle and bustle. The smells, sounds, even air he breathed in brought a sort of cold comfort. He knew this place.

He just didn’t know  _ how _ .

_ “How would you like to go back home, soldier?” _

_ The question gave The Winter Soldier pause. He had no concept of home, not anymore. _

_ The General could see the confusion and unease in the other man’s eyes as he approached. “We have developed a way to go back in time, to return you to where you belong. Of course, you may not remember that now, but it might be helpful for this new mission.” _

_ The man who was once known as Sergeant Bucky looked through the files he had been handed, which gave a crude outline of the machine Hydra had invented for time travel. _

_ “Your mission is to travel back in time to 1943 and go to New York. There, you will find Steve Rogers before he got involved with the Super Soldier Program. You will eliminate him before he can get in contact with Dr. Abraham Erskine of the United States Strategic Scientific Reserve.” _

The orders were clear-cut. The dossier had pictures of his target, a scrawny blond with big blue eyes, and the locations he frequented in this time period. It was just like any other mission: simple, quick, and to the point.

The Winter Soldier never baulked at assassinations. It was what he had to do, what he was told to do, and he saw no reason to question the morality and ethics behind his actions. He’s killed men and women, even some children, too, so this should be no problem.

But something was different. Staring at the image in the mission file, something felt  _ wrong _ .

There must be a glitch in his conditioning. It was the only reason why he would feel anything at all. He was programmed to eliminate his emotions as easily as his targets. Normally, only a quiet numbness was his companion. But now there was turmoil, an uneasiness in his stomach, that made him frown.

“Steve!”

His head shot up as he turned toward the sound of that voice. He’d heard it before, several times before, over and over. But where?

“Bucky!”

The Winter Soldier blinked. Felt his feet moving in the direction of the voices, his body twisting to avoid a collision with the time period’s residents. They gave him odd looks that he ignored, registered only because it was his job to always be on guard during a mission.

He put his back to the brick wall and peered around the edge into an alleyway, where two men were walking and talking to each other as they headed toward the building at the end of the lane. The assassin noted the sign and various World War II recruitment posters hanging in the windows, recognizing it for one of the locations his target would usually be at.

Blond hair, a thin frame, and voice full of conviction. The soldier did not need to glance down at the image in the file to know he had finally found his target. Just like he didn’t need to look at the photo after hearing the name Steve Rogers to know who he was. He knew exactly what his mark looked like. He remembered.

Something tugged at his memories now, but his mind was so jumbled, scrambled like an egg, that there was no way to make clarity out of the feelings that came pouring in. He simply had to let them pass through, but prevent them from overtaking him. Observe.

His target was turned slightly in his direction, standing in front of a man clad in a military uniform of the time. The other man’s frame was more filled out, taller, nearly looming over the smaller. But it was not a threatening pose, nothing aggressive about the stance. The man’s shoulders were casual, feet apart, weight shifting from side to side as the two talked.

The Winter Soldier looked back at his target, shaking the sense of unease settling around him. He couldn’t hear their conversation, only the timbre of their voices. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t an argument, either. They were discussing something important, judging by the hard set of Steve’s jaw.

Now was his chance. He had to act fast before he lost line of sight, before Steve met with the doctor who would turn him into Captain America, the world’s first Avenger. The Winter Soldier knew this because it was part of the mission. He had heard whispers about Captain America during his time with Hydra, had seen the propaganda posters that looked much the same as the ones he was currently staring at.

The man in the uniform began walking again, moving forward toward the building, but Steve remained standing, feet planted.

He was staring at the Winter Soldier, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly opened. The assassin whirled around and started walking away from the scene. He was told not to be spotted by his mark, not to do anything else to alter history. Hopefully Steve’s eyesight was as poor as his records indicated and he saw nothing.

***

Steve couldn’t get the image out of his head, and almost missed his name being called. The flash of silver was pushed to the back of his mind as he stood quickly and walked up to the desk.

“Rogers?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a file, his medical records, that the recruiter was staring at. He had the same look that all of the others before him had: dismal, disbelief, disgust. His eyes went from Steve to the file and back again.

“Just give me a chance,” the would-be soldier pleaded.

“A chance at what? Being cannon fodder? There are other ways you can help the war effort, boy. Not here,” the recruiter replied, picking up a stamp.

“Wait!” Steve’s hand reached out to stop the other’s before he could think about what he was doing. His shout was loud, too loud, and the area grew quiet. He felt the stares of the other men on his back, felt his skin prickling and heating up from shame.

He took a breath, hand trembling as he withdrew it, returning it to his side. “I just want...to serve my country.”

“You’ve got a deathwish, kid. Be careful someone doesn’t grant it for you.” The recruiter stamped his file with 4-F and called another name.

Steve heard a buzzing sound as he forced his legs to move. His fingers weakly grasped the fabric of his shirt, and his body ran on autopilot as he put one arm through the sleeve, and then the other. Walking out of the building, he passed by his friend without looking at his face. Steve knew what he would see there: sorrow, relief, pity. Emotions he didn’t need right now.

“Steve, listen,” Bucky said softly behind him, following at a distance.

“I don’t want to hear it, Buck,” Steve sighed, his head down, eyes boring into the ground just as the eyes of those other men bore into his back. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Still that hum filled his ears, as numbness filled his bones.

But when he ran into something solid, he felt it like a jolt of lightning at his core. Jumping back - bouncing back - he looked up into a pair of familiar eyes.

“Bucky?” Steve gasped, astonished. The man before him had the same eyes, same color hair, but a mask hid most of his face. Still, somehow Steve knew this was his friend. But how?

He looked back to see the man he grew up with standing stock still, eyes wide. Bucky wasn’t looking at Steve.

“Who is Bucky?” the man in the mask asked.

Steve looked back at him, mind reeling as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

***

The Winter Soldier decided that he didn’t care if someone saw him. He wanted to get this mission over with and go back home--

_ “How would you like to go back home, soldier?” _

No, back to the base in Siberia. This time, this place, felt more like home--

_ “Thanks, Buck, but I can get by on my own.” _

_ “The thing is, you don’t have to.” _

He stopped, shaking his head to rid himself of the scenes that came unbidden to his mind.

As he stood, trying to clear his thoughts, someone bumped into him.

Looking down, he realized it was his prey.

“Bucky?”

The Winter Soldier frowned at the name, the shocked expression on Steve’s face, the way he spoke. Like he had seen a ghost.

“Who is Bucky?” the soldier asked in return.

“Steve, get away from him!”

At the other familiar voice, the HYDRA agent’s eyes locked onto the eyes that he once used to see in the mirror. It was very much like standing in front of a mirror, looking at the man behind Steve. One arm was slightly outstretched, reaching for Steve, but his face was frozen.

The answer to his question stood before him. A million more questions swarmed inside of him.

Steve was backing away, fear overtaking his features. The man named Bucky pulled the assassin’s target behind him, using his own body as a shield.

_ “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” _

The words, and the memories with them, pulled the trigger of The Winter Soldier’s gun. As moments from the past came back to him, the bullet shot outward, piercing through his former self and into the boy who was supposed to punch Hitler in the face.

He watched as one, then the other, fell down. Their eyes were looking up at the gray clouds, unseeing. Blood pooled in between and around their entwined bodies.

The Winter Soldier felt nothing, as if everything he ever knew or was had just been erased. He barely heard the screams of the woman who was walking by and witnessed the scene. Gun dropping to the ground, the man with the metal arm drifted away from his past.

***

He found himself in his old house. Sitting on his old bed, in his old room, and remembering it like he had just been there the day before. As if he had come home.

“Bucky,” his hoarse voice said the name after mouthing it to himself a few times. “I am Bucky... _ was _ Bucky.”

And now? What was he?

The Winter Soldier. A HYDRA assassin.  _ Soldat _ .

Murderer.


End file.
